Snow dusted the windows, glimmering under strings of Christmas lights strung from the eaves of the two-story house. Inside, warm firelight danced across garlands, stockings, and decorations that crowded every corner of the cozy living room. The glow filled the space with a sense of calm, broken only by the occasional snap from the fireplace, and the twins’ quiet giggling as they played by the tree. Sophie sat nearby, clutching a mug of cocoa almost as big as her head, her eyes glued to the door as if she could will her father to walk through it.

The quiet shifted when a faint, familiar whoosh of air stirred the garlands hanging over the entry. Hal stepped into the doorway, grinning, hands held behind his back in a way that signaled more than a simple homecoming. Following him, in all his red-suited, bow-bedecked glory, was Barry Allen. An oversized green bow adorned his chest, and a Santa hat tilted jauntily over his usual cowl. He gave a little half-wave, his expression wavering between humor and begrudging acceptance.

“Ta-da!” Hal announced, stepping aside with a flourish. “Early Christmas present, straight from the North Pole.”

You tried to hold back a laugh as Barry shot Hal a withering look. “Santa’s workshop is a little more high-speed than I remember,” you said, exchanging a smirk with Barry, who muttered, “I could’ve outrun this whole thing, you know.”

The twins rushed forward, shouting “Daddy!” as Sophie’s eyes widened, laughing with glee. Hal stepped closer, putting an arm around you. After a week of missions and distance, this unexpected scene brought the warmth of the holidays home, all underlined by the crackling fire.